


The Unexpected Adventure

by Kittlykat



Series: The Unexpected Retelling [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Kili has ADHD, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trans Character, dwarves are ridiculous, fem!Fili - Freeform, fem!Kili, i only have an outline in my head for where this is going to go, so i dont really know which tags will be relevant for this part of the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittlykat/pseuds/Kittlykat
Summary: Bilbo has just decided to follow the dwarves after they basically ransacked his home. Only time will tell if this was the right decision.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company, Fíli & Kíli (Tolkien)
Series: The Unexpected Retelling [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826332
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	1. The very well thought out departure, no rash decision making at all thank you very much

**Author's Note:**

> so this is the second part of my gay retelling. i hope it lives up to expectations (if there even are any)
> 
> but anyway i hope you have fun!

Oh my, this was exciting. Bilbo Baggins. Going on an actual adventure with actual dwarves. No one knew to expect this. First of all the fact that a non-Hobbit would set foot in the Shire, let alone Hobbiton (well, apart from Gandalf that is, he was known to cause trouble from time to time) and second of all the fact that Bilbo Baggins would follow them into the unknown. With no prior warning. It was all very unexpected.

Although not necessarily if you asked a certain Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. If you asked her she’d tell you that this was all a very long time coming, him taking after his Took of a mother and abandoning all that was good and sacred just for a bit of a kick. She still held on to that belief even after years of him being almost an exact copy of his father. So close was he in fact that some of the older members of Hobbiton whose minds might be failing them in their old age sometimes call him Bungo and he, being unfailingly polite in a very Baggins-y way, didn’t have the heart to correct them.

But now he’s left that life behind him, running into the wilderness to try and catch up with thirteen dwarves and a wizard. That in and of itself couldn’t be more tookish. It was even more tookish that most Tooks. Most Tooks would plan where they were going at least a week in advance, especially if their trip was going to last more than a few days. Even his mother had started to prepare for her last adventure before she got married, which lasted 6 months mind you, at least a year before she set off, and she was the most tookish Took there had been in the history of Tooks. Well it was generally considered to be a title shared by Bandobras ‘Bullroarer’ Took and her, Belladonna ‘oh why don’t we go and see the elves, I’ve always wanted to see the elves’ Baggins. And Bilbo was related to both of them.

He was however also a Baggins. The son of the most Baggins-y Baggins in the history of Bagginses and as far as anyone knew there was no other candidate for that particular title. So although he didn’t put much thought into what he needed for the road (he figured the dwarves will have taken care of most things so he only packed whatever came to mind in his semi-frantic walk through of his smial), he did take care of most necessary matters before he set foot outside Bag End. He made sure his pantries were empty and packed a few vegetables that the dwarves hadn’t eaten as they had fallen behind things as he knew from stories he’d heard growing up that you could never have too much food on any kind of journey, even a short stroll down to the weekly market. He checked all the bedrooms for any forgotten items, of which he found none (which made the dagger he discovered even stranger as these dwarves clearly weren’t careless when it came to their possessions). And finally he wrote a note for his trusty neighbour and gardener Hobson Gamgee which read:

_My dearest Hobson,_

 _By the time you find this note I will already be gone. But do not despair for I am in capable hands. Last night my dining room became the location of a feast, one I wasn’t expecting mind you, but that does not change the fact that in my dining room a feast was had. My food was eaten and my ale was drunk and I feel I have never see so much of my food disappear in a single meal and will never again no matter how many Hobbits I invite over, because, you see, my guests were not Hobbits, but Dwarves. Dwarves who have invited me to go on an adventure with them, an offer I could not find in myself to decline._

_So I now ask you to take care of my garden while I am away (you could maybe give it to your Hamfast for him to practice having a whole garden for himself and only himself to take care of, I know how important responsibility is when honing a skill) and if you could make sure my possessions don’t fall into the wrong hands that would be much appreciated. I can also offer my spacious, empty rooms to Lily if needs be (though I would recommend cleaning the floors before housing a patient here, as Dwarves apparently see no problem with wearing muddy shoes into other people’s homes). I would also offer the contents of the red chest in my office as compensation for any trouble caused to you by my absence (I can only hope the trouble won’t exceed the contents)._

_I regret not having the time to say this face to face but give my love to the family. I’ll make sure to bring back something for the children, though I do not know how suitable the things I can acquire on this trip will be for them. I’d ask you for suggestions for anything to look out for but I really must be off. I it wouldn’t bode well to be late for my first adventure._

_Best regards and take care,  
Bilbo Baggins_

He hoped that was enough for he truly couldn’t think of any other matter that would need to be settled, and more importantly could be settled in a letter. He was already wasting precious time on trying to think of anything that needed to be done that would be more usefully dedicated to catching up with the dwarves, who were currently getting further and further away every moment Bilbo was hesitating.

The bag he had hastily packed was sitting by the front door, waiting to be hauled up and fastened onto his back, but there was still something Bilbo was missing, he could feel it. Oh Yavanna, its no use. He’s going to have to go through everything he’s got and hope he remembers what he’s forgotten. Classic Baggins style.

Alright, here goes.

Shirt, yes. Waistcoat, yes. Travelling jacket, yes. Trousers, yes. Undergarments, yes. _Spare_ undergarments, yes. 

_What else, what else…_

Food, plenty (hopefully). Waterskin, full and ready to go.

Bedroll, sleeping sack, small pillow and sleep clothes. Yes, yes, yes and … no, but those aren’t strictly necessary so there’s no reason to bother to look for them. 

Walking stick? He’ll find one on the way, sticks do grow on trees after all. And there are plenty of trees out in the great outdoors.

Bilbo felt like he was grasping at straws now. He was even contemplating whether he needed to bring his journal and quill or not.

Actually now when he comes to think of it though that sounds like a good idea. Yes, he definitely needs his journal. How else would he be able to document his first adventure. But what about his second journal, he’d probably run out of pages if he knew anything about how much could happen when you go out of your front door.

No.

Only one.

That will be plenty. He has very small handwriting. Besides who said he had to write full sentences. One journal will be enough.

_INK!_

How could he have forgotten the ink.

When that was all sorted and he had finally convinced himself that he had everything he could possibly need he put his pack on his back and started to prepare himself to leave his home, but there was still a nagging voice at the back of his mind telling him he was forgetting something and he couldn’t for the life of him think of what it could possibly be. Maybe his mind was just playing tricks on him and he did, in fact, have all he could possibly wish for, but that thought didn’t solve the problem that was his doubt, which was the last thing stopping him from opening his door and sprinting after his former guests. 

As a last resort he decided to take a final look into his living room to alleviate his doubt and luckily he did, as on his little table next to his settee was the offending article. The one thing that brought him into this mess in the first place.

That _blasted_ contract.

Well there’s no time to pack it now, he’ll have to carry it. He was already late enough as it is.

With one last glance into his home he locked his door, put the key under the doormat and ran as fast as his legs could carry him down the road, past the green dragon and on towards where, he hoped, the dwarves would be. (They did say they were heading east, and if Bilbo knew anything, it was which direction is east.)

If Bilbo had known all this time that what he needed to feel like himself again was an adventure, he would have run away years ago.


	2. The warm(ish) Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo catches up with the dwarves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a new chapter (yaaayy!)
> 
> i hope you enjoy it

Bilbo was running, something he hadn’t done in quite a while. Usually if he went on a trip it was only a walking holiday, so no running involved there. And on those trips he’d usually pay more attention to his surroundings, because if there was something he adored it was nature. Just looking at, for example, a tree brought him so much joy and entertainment. First he’d figure out what type of tree it was and then he’d try to find an animal on it. Often a type of bird (mostly tits, but occasionally a finch), but also sometimes a squirrel. If he heard birdsong then he always liked to figure out what bird was singing. And if he walked past a field he could figure out what crop was being grown on it and sometimes he’d see a cat sitting in the middle of it, which was always delightful. 

But today was different. Today he was running. Probably much faster than he had ever run and definitely too fast to look at trees or birds or fields. Definitely too fast to be thinking of anything other than where the dwarves were. Too fast to even wonder if this was actually the direction they were headed. It was also probably just too fast in general, but Bilbo didn’t let that stop him. He just ran.

After what could’ve been a mere two minutes or three whole hours but was most likely somewhere between the two, he saw something in the distance. It looked like a lump of movement a few hundred yards in front of him. It had to be the dwarves, it just had to be.

Bilbo shouted at the top of his voice. He wasn’t sure if it was actually a word or if it was just a sound, but it didn’t really matter, there was no way in all of Middle Earth they’d be able to understand anything he might or might not be saying at that distance. All that mattered was that he caught their attention. Which he did. Eventually. 

When they turned around to look for what was making the noise they could hear, Bilbo realised he should probably think about what he was saying now.

“I’ve signed it!”, he shouted. “I’ve signed the contract!”

The closer he got the more obvious it became how breathless he was. His voice gradually got quieter and raspier until, finally, he was standing in the middle of the ponies, gasping for air. 

“Well hand it over then, lad”, he heard a voice say, not unkindly, but he couldn’t see who it came from as he had his hands on his knees to steady himself. After a moment or two he gathered enough strength to lift the hand with the contract towards where he thought the voice had come from and as soon as it was taken from him his hand went back to where it was before. When he wasn’t gulping for air too much he transferred his hands from his knees to his hips so he could look at who had taken the contract to inspect it. It was Balin. He really should’ve been able to guess, seeing as he was supposed to be the witness for the whole thing. 

“Well, everything seems to be in order.”

Bilbo hadn’t noticed how tense he’d been until his shoulders, and his entire body really, instantly relaxed as soon as he heard that. It didn’t really make any sense, as of course everything would be in order, he hadn’t attempted to deceive anyone, nor had the thought even crossed his mind. 

“All right, that’s enough talking,” a harsh voice from the front barked out, “Give him the spare pony.”

“No no, that’s all right. I’m fine without. I’ve been on plenty of walking holidays, I think I can mana- “, Bilbo was cut off by a yelp that escaped his mouth as he was yanked off the floor. Only a few moments after the fact did his mind catch up to the fact that he had been placed onto the back of one of the few ponies that didn’t have a rider. It did have quite a few of their packs though. He’d like to say that it made it unbearably uncomfortable to have to wedge his legs into the almost non-existent gaps between what were someone’s weapons and cookware, but it was honestly barely any different from any other time he’d ridden a pony. Which wasn’t often, but often enough to know it was generally horrible. He couldn’t understand how people would voluntarily ride one of these beasts.

While he was silently fuming about the existence of ponies, his nose and eyes began to feel uncomfortable. Ah, yes. He’d forgotten about that bit. He needed his handkerchief. Now.

He couldn’t find it. _Damn my luck._

“Stop, we need to go back.”

_How could I have let this happen?_

“What on Arda for? Is something the matter?”, Gandalf, ever so perceptive, asked.

_I was being so careful as well._

“I need m-, my ha- _achoo_ ,” he was interrupted by a sneeze, “my handkerchief. I left it at home.”

“My dear Bilbo,” said the grey wizard with a chuckle, “you’re going to have to survive a little longer without such comforts as pocket handkerchiefs, my friend.”

That’s all well and good but it doesn’t solve the current and very immediate issue of his very runny nose.

He was about to say as much but his intentions were interrupted by the distinctive sound of something being ripped. For a moment Bilbo worried that it was something to do with his saddle, but luckily he found his answer before he worked himself up too much when someone threw a rough piece of material at him. It was Bofur, of course.

“Use that. We wouldn’t want you drowning your pony in snot now would we.”

And with that they rode on. However, Bilbo was hesitant to use the piece of fabric. He didn’t know where it had been. It certainly wouldn’t be very hygienic to use someone else’s clothes to wipe one’s nose. It wasn’t very hygienic to use one’s own clothes either, for that matter. It was a bit of a conundrum if Bilbo was being honest.

But the piece of fabric wasn’t currently clothing anyone. So he wouldn’t be using someone else’s clothes if he wiped his nose with it. So, with an internal _oh, sod it_ , he brought it up to his face and attempted to gather up all the watery snot running out of his nose. It wasn’t pleasant but at least it got the job done. 

When he felt he was more or less done he tried to think of the best place to store his now soaked replacement handkerchief. If he put it into his pocket it would just make the pocket unbearably sticky and snotty, which wasn’t exactly a desirable outcome. He didn’t want to have to hold it in his hand the whole journey so the only other option would be to place it somewhere where it would surely fall to the ground and get lost somehow, which wasn’t ideal even if he wasn’t a big fan of using it as a hankie in the first place. So the pocket it was. He made sure there was nothing else in the pocket beforehand though, so he wouldn’t get anything unnecessarily snotty, if anything ever even needs to be snotty.

He must’ve had a funny look while debating with himself because when he looked up he saw a few of them looking his way with amused looks on their faces. They were all trying to suppress laughter (some more successfully than others) and some were shaking their heads as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. None of it seemed to be malicious so Bilbo didn’t feel the need to be affronted by the situation.

But Bilbo was wrong. At first, he didn’t see it but the longer he looked at all his new companions the clearer it becomes that one of them didn’t share the good humour the rest of them clearly did. It was that dark and broody leader they had, a certain Mister Oakenshield. When that dwarf turned away and shook his head, it wasn’t in light-hearted mockery. No, he looked like he had just been sucking on an especially sour lemon at the precise moment someone told him he’d have to wade through a puddle of piss to get to where he wanted to go. Which put Bilbo in a sour mood too, because that look of disgust and bitterness was no doubt a result of him turning up, and if there was something Bilbo hated more than someone hating his presence it was someone hating his presence and not having the common decency to mention it to him, because that meant that whoever it was that didn’t like him didn’t think it was worth their time to inform him that he wasn’t wanted. 

_Although_ , Bilbo thought, _maybe he just hasn’t had the opportunity yet. I have only just arrived. He probably didn’t expect me to turn up, sweating like an old piece of cheese, panting like a sheepdog after an exhausting afternoon of herding, saying I wanted to come on this quest of his._

Bilbo was now looking forward to that. He was excited to find out how this grumpy dwarf would let him know that he didn’t care for him one bit.

All he had to do now was wait. And he was always ever so patient. Just ask his cousin Lobelia, who would never give up the chance to tell the story of how long she pestered and pestered Bilbo to marry her in increasingly annoying ways, but Bilbo would always turn her down. Of course she’d frame it as him being a grumpy old git who was always more akin to a spinster that a bachelor, but the truth was that he could tell that every time he’d turn her down, she’d get in such a huff that she’d just storm away without even a small wave to say goodbye. And to Bilbo that was more than worth the mild annoyance of having her ask him almost every other day for months on end. 

This trip is just going to be bliss, if only for the knowledge that Lobelia will be so very annoyed by his absence. Especially because he was supposed to be hosting a dinner to which she was invited. He was having a lot of fun imagining all the different ways she could react to the news. If she’d find out before she goes over to his, or only as she opens the door to find every room empty of him or any sign of a dinner having been prepared. 

But sadly that was something Bilbo wouldn’t find out himself until after this quest was over, which could apparently be anywhere between 20 and 30 weeks, assuming there aren’t any major delays. 

Some might’ve just turned around at that revelation, just to see Lobelia’s reaction firsthand. But not Bilbo.

Because Bilbo was patient.

Bilbo could wait.


	3. An Avoidable Dilemma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see. very sorry for the delay. i promised myself that i would update this before the new year. and would you look at that, i managed to! (barely).
> 
> i hope you enjoy

Bilbo was hungry. 

Really hungry. 

Much too hungry for any self-respecting hobbit to be.

He, in his mad dash to get out of Bag End, neglected to have anything for breakfast. Not that there was anything to have, mind you. And now it was just after midday if the position of the sun in the sky was anything to go by. So if his calculations were correct that meant that it has been at least three, but most likely closer to four hours since he ran out of his front door, leaving his cosy life behind him. And roughly the same amount of time since he was forced onto this increasingly uncomfortable pony, something that Bilbo wouldn’t have even though possible, considering how unbearable he thought it was the moment he first sat in the saddle. But apparently, it was.

Plus, it was getting increasingly warmer, as well as ridiculously humid. It was a little early in the year for it to be like that, Bilbo thought at first, but then he remembered that it had rained a considerable amount the last few days, so it wasn’t too unusual. It didn’t make it any more bearable, but at least he wasn’t confused by it. 

Something that was making it more bearable though, was the fact that his behind was going numb. Now, at first that might seem a bit illogical, but a numb behind meant that he couldn’t feel all those little pinches on his skin with every step of the pony, so he wasn’t wincing every other second because his trousers had a few too many folds and creases in them. 

But something a numb bum didn’t solve was everything else. He was still hungry and hot. And his bag on his back was making the skin underneath it go entirely slick with sweat. All his numb bum did was lessen his suffering by a miniscule amount, which sort of made him miss all the little pinches that would at least distract him from all his other minor miseries.

While he was grumbling to himself, Bilbo didn’t really take in his surroundings as much as he probably should have been. Otherwise he would’ve noticed the dwarves dismounting sooner. 

_Finally, a break._

As he was trying to figure out how to get off this damned beast, seeing as he didn’t exactly play much of a part in getting on, the leader of the company, Thorin _bloody_ Oakenshield, barked out an order.

“Don’t go far, we won’t be staying here long.”

That’s all fine and dandy but how does that help Bilbo get off this pony. 

“Put your foot in the stirrup.”

“What?”, he blurted out as he almost spun around so he could see where the voice had come from. It was the one with the impressively shaped beard, whose name he should’ve known by now but for some reason couldn’t think of it.

“The stirrup,” he repeated and, in response to Bilbo’s blank look, pointed at his legs, “the thing by your feet.”

_Was it Balin?_

He looked down to see a strangely shaped hoop of metal dangling by a thick strip of leather and after a few moments of faffing about, he managed to slip his foot into it, after which he felt like he should give himself a triumphant pat on the back. But now he was just as lost as before, with no idea what to do next. Balin (at least he hoped that was this dwarf’s name) must’ve noticed his confusion, because he gave him some more instructions.

“Now swing your other leg round.” That didn’t clear up much at first but when he put some of his weight onto the foot in the stirrup and it didn’t pull the saddle out from under him he figured out how to do it. 

In theory. In reality it didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. He managed to swing his leg over the back of the pony, but he hadn’t really thought about what to do after that. So instead of gracefully dismounting he almost fell to the ground. Only almost, because luckily Balin was nearby and had quick enough reflexes to catch him before he got himself all muddy.

“I take it you haven’t ridden before”, he stated while helping Bilbo back onto his own feet. Strangely, his tone didn’t seem mocking, which Bilbo would have expected seeing as he’s just made a massive fool of himself. Maybe he did mean to mock him, but because Bilbo had no idea about how to tell a dwarf was trying to make fun of someone, he didn’t hear the intended undertones.

“I have, but only when I was still very young,” he found himself explaining, “and never on my own. I always sat in front of my mother and when we had to get off she’d just lift me, so I didn’t exactly pay much attention to how she did it,” Bilbo babbled with nerves and once again Balin surprised him by looking interested in what he was saying instead of looking at him like he was an idiot.

“So you haven’t travelled much at all then.” he said, only now releasing Bilbo’s arm from his steadying grip.

“Not really, no.”

“Anyway,” he said suddenly after a few moments of contemplative silence, “you heard Thorin. Don’t go too far. We’ll be on our way again soon.” He slapped him on the back before walking towards the grouping of dwarves that was developing near what looked like a collection of rocks jutting out of the ground that were the perfect size and height for sitting on.

But Bilbo was sure that he had seen some brambles somewhere, and he was definitely in the mood for some berries. Well, he was in the mood for anything at the moment, but wild berries were always a good choice.

\----

It didn’t take long for him to collect enough berries to fill the little pouch he made with his shirt. It wasn’t necessarily the equivalent of the three, or possibly even four, full meals he has missed today, but it will definitely take the edge off his hunger for the foreseeable future at least. So, feeling satisfied with the amount he had, he made his way back to the others, who luckily hadn’t ridden off while he was gone.

Most were sitting on the rocks on the edge of the collection of boulders. There were however three dwarves, who Bilbo recognised as the youngest of the bunch, were jumping from one protruding rock to the next in what looked like a game of catch. He couldn’t help but smile at the amount of joy they were getting out of it. They were laughing and smiling the whole time while also concentrating on where they were putting their feet. Those days were, regrettably, long behind Bilbo, so he didn’t have much choice in which group to join.

He was munching on a mouthful of blackberries and cupping the collection he had in the pouch he made with his shirt with his hand when he sidled up to one of the subgroups of the more mature dwarves. Bilbo wished he could make an informed decision on which dwarves he’d enjoy the company of most right now, but sadly he hadn’t the foggiest of who he should go for. So, not expecting much in the way of meaningful conversation, he went for the two that was closest to him, who were, by the looks of it, deep in a whispered conversation.

_“You need to-“_

_“I can’t, Dori.”_

_“Why not?”_

This has nothing to do with Bilbo.

_“You know why.”_

_“I don’t think I do.”_

He shouldn’t be listening to private conversations.

_“If I do what you want me to do, I’ll have to turn back.”_

_“Nori, don’t be silly.”_

It’s not polite.

_“I’m not being silly.”_

He should just leave them to it.

_“Yes you are.”_

This is none of his business. 

_“You know very well that if Thorin finds out I’ve done this, he’ll send me back to-“_

_Ah, would you look at that. Another group. Why don’t I just go over to them._

With the argument still going on behind him he approached some other dwarves, who were luckily not in the middle of an argument. In fact they were just moving their hands at each other. Well, two of them were just moving their hands, one of them was also grunting in addition to his gestures.

Bilbo had to admit, it looked more than a little odd. 

“Ah, there you are,” one of them says, all of them halting their hand movements the moment they notice him watching them.

“Hello,” he manages once he swallows the mush of berries he had in his mouth.  
“We were worried you’d disappearing on us for a moment there,” the one who spoke before added in a way that told Bilbo that he wasn’t worried at all. “We can’t have you abandoning us, not after that grand entrance of yours.” He ended with a chuckle.

“No, no need to worry, I just got a bit peckish is all. I saw a patch of brambles and thought I could have a spot of lunch.” But when Bilbo looked at everyone else, he seemed to be alone in his hunger. “Do Dwarves not eat lunch?”, he asked hesitantly, trying his hardest to make sure whatever he says cannot conceivably cause offense. By the bewildered looks he was getting, he couldn’t tell if that was successful or not.

“Of course we do,” the large dwarf with his beard in what looked like a loop quietly answered, confusion clear in his voice, “what makes you think we wouldn’t.”

“Oh, erm, well,” Bilbo floundered, not sure how to answer. “None of you are eating?” He himself knew he didn’t sound convinced by his answer, and for good reason, because he wasn’t. 

“Well, no, of course not,” the large dwarf replied, as if everything that he was saying made perfect sense, “we’re on the road. It’s a waste of resources to eat three meals every day.”

_Three?_

“Today’s just one of our lunchless days,” the one with the hat added, clearly aware of Bilbo’s confusion, but not of what part of his friend’s answer was causing it.

All Bilbo could do was let out a nervous chuckle. 

“Is something the matter over here?”, a voice asked from behind him. It was one of the ones who was having the heated discussion before. “Mahal’s beard, Mister Baggins, are you alright?”

“ _Three meals_ ,” he all but croaked.

“Pardon?”

“You-“, he cleared his throat to get rid of the frog he had in it, “you eat three times a day?”

He heard a few of them answer affirmatively.

“Is there a problem with that?”, one of them asked timidly, unsure why Bilbo was making a fuss.

_Is there a problem with that???_

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

_How many meals will I have to skip on this journey?_

“Mister Baggins, you’re scaring us.”

_You’re scaring me!_

“I think it might be best for you to sit down.”

Bilbo didn’t have much of a chance to respond to any of their concerns before he was gently but firmly pushed towards a rock and made to sit on it. Both his forearms were being supported by strong hands as if he were in danger of falling to the floor at any moment and by the way his head was spinning it was probably for the best.

Only when he’d started to get his breathing under control and his head didn’t feel like it was one gust of wind away from being blown off his shoulders did he manage to get his scrambled thoughts into enough of an order to voice his concerns.

“Three meals“, he croaked again. Of Course, just because Bilbo managed to say some words that could easily be understood, that doesn’t mean his listeners knew why it was relevant.

“Yes”, one of the dwarves said beside him, clearly frustrated that Bilbo wasn’t getting to the point. “So you have said.”

It’s not that he wasn’t trying, his mind just wasn’t cooperating with his mouth. Or his lungs. Or much else for that matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not entirely satisfied with where i ended this chapter and it was dragging on a bit.
> 
> i hope its not too jarring.


End file.
